


Extravagantly Beautiful

by donnarafiki



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: F/F, Fluff, Getting Together, Soft Butch Millicent Bulstrode, Useless Lesbians
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-05-03
Updated: 2019-05-03
Packaged: 2020-02-16 13:50:31
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,024
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18692791
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/donnarafiki/pseuds/donnarafiki
Summary: Hook ups, when Pansy ever had them, were for social status, for entertainment, for curiosity. They were a choice. Her attraction to Millicent didn’t feel like a choice. The sudden desire to drop to her knees, pull those jeans off her sinfully muscled legs and give Millicent an orgasm she would never forget, that wasn’t a choice. It felt more like a fact of life.





	Extravagantly Beautiful

**Author's Note:**

> My femslash writing skills feel a bit rusty but I am actually quite happy with how this turned out. Biggest thanks to my beta Etalice<3

Pansy was glad the beach party called for sunglasses, otherwise all the guests would see her constant state of eye-roll. It was honestly getting ridiculous. If dreamless sleep could turn into a party, this would be it. She ran a gossip magazine for Merlin’s sake!

Well, it featured more feminism and body positivity than gossip these days, something Pansy approved of, given the fact that she was Head Editor, but still. She needed the gossip side of her work to keep things light, keep herself young, ignore the ache in her feet from days of walking on heels and the lumbago that lured close each time she bend over.

The shameless thrill of who hooked up with whom or whose pregnancy test had come back positive despite having an infertile husband, she needed it like air. Of course, these days she was much too sophisticated to let anyone in on that little fact. Draco knew, though Draco didn’t really count, and she kept everyone else firmly out of her private life.

Not that she had much of that. She could barely remember her last proper snog. Not because she objected to them, but when one’s work consists out of following the most scandalous lives of the rich and famous, it’s hard not to get bored with ordinary things, ordinary people.

Too busy watching others live to remember she was alive herself. That is what her father used to say to her mother, during one of the rows before they had gone their separate ways. After that they kept up their hollow marriage only to the outside world, and no longer to their estranged daughter.

It didn’t bother Pansy as much as it should, the way she had turned into her mother. Mostly, because she felt like she hadn’t. In some aspects, yes. She’d followed her mother’s footsteps in _Witch Weekly_ of course, career wise they differed very little. Only Pansy had forced the magazine onto a more high class, trustworthy journalistic route, where her mother had tried to become a new Rita Skeeter in between the knitting patterns and fantasised horoscopes.

Pansy wasn’t trying and failing to copy someone else’s success. She made her own, as she’d always done. Being the child of unhappily married-but-separated parents on top of being sorted into Slytherin, the most isolated House at Hogwarts, it was what she’d been taught from a very young age. If you don’t do it yourself it won’t happen.

That was why she was boring herself to death at this stupid Gallery Opening. Of all the things humans had come up with, art galleries had to be in the Most Boring Top 10. And the _opening_ of said galleries were just worse, because with all the trust fund baby artists walking around, you weren’t even allowed to freely bitch about the misery of it all lest you wanted to end up with a wine glass in your face and a mediocre artist basing their next shitty piece on you.

The last thing any of these people needed was a proper reason to feel sorry for themselves.

She was halfway through writing a Most Boring Top 10, something that could surely find a place among the pages of next week’s edition, when someone leaned against the balustrade of the balcony right next to her. Scared it might be a trust fund baby under the illusion that she cared about them, she slammed the notebook shut.

There was no need for them to see the current party rank number one on the list. She wasn’t here to make a scene, she was just here to show her face to the right people. Influential people, those with money and cousins in politics, who would help _Witch Weekly_ through the next scandal when it published about sore topics like love potions and memory charm use in the bedroom.

“Don’t even feel the need to share the latest gossip to anyone who’ll listen? I remember you being quite different when we were at Hogwarts. I’m still somewhat surprised I managed to graduate with fully functioning ears.”

Pansy turned her head in shock. It couldn’t be, especially not at a party like this, and yet still…

“Millicent!”

“The one and only.” Millicent tapped against her non existent hat in greeting and smiled at her. She’d changed over the years. Pansy remembered her as the quiet, deadly kid. The one who preferred to use fists but could blow a hole in the castle walls if she decided to use her wand.

The girl had properly grown into her woman form. Pure anger combined with an almost graceless chubbiness had been turned into proper training and muscled arms. She could give Ginny Weasley a run for her money on the bench press by the looks of it. Marcus Flint too, probably.

Pansy’s mouth immediately went dry.

“What are you doing here?”

“Well, looking at all this extravagantly beautiful art, of course.” Millicent gestured around them, as if the large beach house turned gallery was a scene of miraculous beauty. “I was especially moved by the rock in the far corner. And the title is a piece of art all by itself. _Rock molecule_. The absence of facts perfectly illustrates the absence of talent and inspiration in this barren, barren world.”

Pansy snorted and eyed her former classmate over the edge of her sunglasses. “You’ve certainly changed since we last met. Used to be so quiet, and now you sound so well spoken it’s giving me a run for my money.”

“What can I say?” Millicent flashed her a smile that seemed way too intimate for their current setting. Pansy had never been more glad for the make up now hiding her fierce blush. “Remove the stupidly long hair and the skirt, add ten years of living in the muggle world plus a fifth cat, and you’ve got yourself quite the flirtatious butch on your hands.”

“Flirtate-, flirtatious butch?” Pansy nearly choked on her own saliva, it was a highly undignified and unsexy affair. What didn’t help was that Millicent patted her on the back and then _kept her hand there_ once she’d calmed down.

“Oh my, I’ve been a terrible suitor, haven’t I?” Millicent squeezed her shoulder, and Pansy felt her knees go weak. _Merlin_ , it really had been too long since her last proper shag if _Millicent_ was doing things to her. Of course the feelings didn’t come as quite so big a shock to her, she frequently attended the women’s sport section photo shoot, but this was more than just finding someone aesthetically pleasing. This was more than Pansy being bored and someone else being willing and pretty.

Hook ups, when she ever had them, were for social status, for entertainment, for curiosity. They were a choice. Her attraction to Millicent didn’t feel like a choice. The sudden desire to drop to her knees, pull those jeans off her _sinfully_ muscled legs and give Millicent an orgasm she would never forget, that wasn’t a _choice_. It felt more like a fact of life.

The sky is blue, the earth is round, and Millicent could pick her up and drag her into her bed, her life, her _heart_ , and Pansy would thank her for it. It was the strangest feeling, for someone who had always been in control, who had always done everything herself, to have something done _to_ her.

“You alright there, Pansy?” Millicent cocked her head to the side while offering her a mojito. Pansy hadn’t even noticed her leaving until she was standing right in front of her again. She’d been too shocked by her own feelings to register the departure. “You look a bit, how shall I say, _lost for words_.”

The innocent smile directed at her face was almost too much for Pansy to take. This party was supposed to be boring. Her attraction to women shouldn’t go further than the occasional stray wank. And she _definitely_ shouldn’t feel light in the head because a former housemate, one _below her social status_ , offered her a drink.

But despite that, she found it impossible to form a coherent reply to the question. She didn’t even mind Millicent calling her lost for words. It was the least worrisome kind of lost she felt in that moment. Being speechless was rare, but it was known to happen. Being lost in those brown eyes, in the sea of sensations flowing through her mind, in the fantasy of simply being _held_ by the woman in front of her, _that_ was worrisome.

The term ‘useless lesbian’ had never rung so true, and she wasn’t even a lesbian in the first place.

“How about a walk along the beach, Pansy? See if you can find your words back, then.”

Before Pansy could form an answer, Millicent dropped to her knees, gently tapping her shoe so Pansy would lift her feet and she could remove them.

“Hardly practical to walk in the sand with heels on, don’t you think?”

Pansy nodded, and she was rather proud of herself for that. Being barefoot meant the height difference between them was even more pronounced, and that little fact hadn’t made Pansy’s thoughts any more coherent. She didn’t even care where her shoes had ended up as Millicent put an arm around her waist and they walked down the stairs onto the sand together.

Once they were away from all the people at the gallery, Millicent let go of her waist and seemed to become a bit more herself. Or rather, more like the quiet girl Pansy knew from Hogwarts. Only when she trusted herself enough to look sideways, she discovered it wasn’t the stoic, grumpy silence from a teenage girl wrestling with herself.

Instead it was the silence of blushing cheeks, of staring straight ahead with the occasional, not so subtle sideway glance. It was a nervous silence. An I’m-alone-with-you-and-now-I-got-shy silence.

Pansy found it too adorable to be legal, even though she’d banned the word _adorable_ from her vocabulary at thirteen. The way Millicent looked was worthy of an exception.

“Millicent?” Millicent hummed in reply. “Why did you come to the Gallery Opening? And don’t tell me it’s because of the art.”

Millicent’s eyes briefly shot sideways. Her blush deepened. “I heard from Theo you’d be here. Seemed more low key than the Remembrance Gala from last week.”

“You came for me?” Pansy stopped walking. Millicent only noticed a few steps further down, turning around only when they were several feet apart. As a reward, she got stared at in shock. People didn’t go places for Pansy. Pansy always came to them. When it was the other way around, it was either because someone was angry or had the illusion of being interesting enough for an interview.

“I did.” Pansy hadn’t known it was possible for someone to blush that deeply. Millicent nearly reached Draconian levels, even though her skin was tanned. The other woman seemed to be gathering courage, swallowing heavily before pushing on. “It’s been… good, living away from magic for a while. But I miss it. So I went back. First Theo, then Greg, and now you. It’s nearly impossible to date muggles you know? There’s just so much you can’t tell them.”

Pansy felt a bit dizzy. “Why are you saying that?”

“Because that’s why I came here. For you.” Suddenly Millicent was close to her, right in front of her, crowding her space, overwhelming her with her presence. Pansy’s breath hitched when Millicent reached out and pushed a stray lock of hair behind her ear. “You were my first crush, you know? My gay awakening, one might say. I figured where it all began would be a good place to start. See if there are any lingering feelings left.”

“And are there?”

Millicent’s hand had never left her ear. Now suddenly it was cupping her face, pushing her chin up just a little. The slightly insecure smile on Millicent’s face melted Pansy’s heart a little. Without anyone moving an inch, somehow she felt herself sharing the same air as Millicent, the tip of their noses nearly touching in the middle.

“Yes.”


End file.
